Gwevin: Thistles Past
by tesha198
Summary: A Ben 10 AU where Gwen gets sucked into the past and encounters a war between one of her ancestors (Ben) and a rival clan leader (Kevin) and finds her own destiny is connected to the fate of everyone around her
1. Chapter 1

Gwen sat on a nearby rooftop, watching as the museum guard locked the doors and turned to embark on his nightly rounds. She waited, ensuring he was safely gone before making her way onto the museum roof with a large leap. She landed softly, pausing to listen for guard footsteps or anything out of the ordinary. When the night air remained silently still she stood up from her crouch and made her way to the rooftop skylight. The museum below was dimly lit, just bright enough for the guards to see the exhibits were safe on their rounds.

She trailed her finger in a circle along the glass of the skylight, leaving a glowing pink path behind where she touched, then carefully pulled the circular piece of glass free from the body of the window. She smirked as no alarms sounded at her security breach, then attached a line to the metal frame of the skylight and threw the slack of the rope through the new hole. She tugged the line, ensuring it was fastened securely, and lowered herself slowly through the opening.

As she reached the bottom of the rope she paused, lightly tapping the floor with her foot before fully stepping onto it. She surveyed the room, eyeing the exhibit case she was here for. The glass encasing the artifact was thick, impossible for her to lift herself. She stared at the tablet within the glass, narrowing her eyes in frustration. She could cut the glass as she did the skylight, but the breach may very well set off alarms.

All too suddenly the echoing of footsteps filled the room, approaching quickly from the hall. She frowned, running to the rope and heaving it up through the skylight before ducking behind an oversized exhibit pedestal holding a bust.

The footsteps stopped in the doorway and the light of a flashlight cut through the dark of the room. It hesitated on every exhibit piece, taking time to ensure nothing was amiss, and upon finding everything present the guard continued on. Gwen exhaled in relief, grateful that the guard was lazy enough to not actually walk around the room. She waited an extra couple seconds to ensure he wouldn't return suddenly then crept out from her hiding spot. She made her way back over to the case, deciding that in the time it would take the guard to respond to the potential alarm she would be long gone, and began to cut a hole in the glass case.

As she had suspected an alarm sounded the second she pulled the circular cut out of the body of the case. She reached in as quickly as she could and pulled out the small stone tablet. Close by, she could hear the shouts and heavy footsteps of guards racing towards her and, tablet in hand, formed a flat pink platform beneath her feet and began floating back up to the skylight.

Just as she reached the opening, however, the tablet in her hands began to burn her skin. She winced and looked down to see the ancient runes coating the stone illuminated in an eerie pink glow. The glow began to crackle, lines of energy flowing up her arms and across her skin, sending waves of piercing pain through her. In a last stich attempt to stop the pain she dropped the tablet, only to find it impossible to release it from her grasp. She swore under her breath and flailed her arm trying to get the tablet off her skin.

Just as the pain reached it peak, the guards burst into the room and began shouting for her to stop. She glared at them, annoyed with their simplicity, only to see them disappear before her eyes as the pink glow consumed her entirely. In the back of her mind she noticed the alarm had stopped ringing, replaced with a slight humming noise that was somehow equally as annoying a sound.

After what seemed like an eternity and an instant all in one, the glowing began to recede from her vision and the pain began to dissipate. She blinked, desperately trying to un-blur her vision.

When the smudges of colors became a clear picture she gasped in utter shock and confusion. Where she had once seen a museum and frantic guards she now found a clearing. The grass was long and damp under her skin and as she sat up she noticed a thick brush of trees surrounded the field in a perfect circle. She inhaled deeply, desperately searching for a logical explanation, only to sneeze as she was assaulted by the scent of thistles and heather that were strewn throughout the long grass. She cringed as she turned to survey the entirety of her surroundings, her muscles sore from the pain that had been coursing through them just moments ago.

That's when it hit her, the tablet.

Frantically, she jumped to her feet, only to stumble backwards and find herself leaning against a large rock. The rock was in the center of the circular clearing and looked unnatural. Nearly nine feet tall, it was completely smooth, as if a seamless oval had been carried and placed into the space. Its glossy black surface was marred only with familiar looking runes. They didn't seem to be carved, as if they'd appeared there naturally, and were just as smooth as the rest of the rock's surface.

She squinted, trying to make sense of the foreign symbols. She reached out her hand and trailed it across the lines of one of the runes, watching as the rune began to glow, as the tablet had, with her touch. Startled, she withdrew her hand from its surface, taking many steps back and staring at the rock in its entirety.

She shuddered, shook her head and turned away in hopes of finding the tablet in the long grass and ending this odd nightmare. She bent over, running her hand through the grass in search of it.

That's when she heard it. It was a familiar sound, the beating of hooves against the earth, and she snapped upright, her hair red fluttering in the breeze as she did so. The sound stopped as the horse, and its rider, halt a few feet away.

The horse's coat was charcoal black and glossy under the afternoon sun, a stark contrast to the rider's dirty blonde hair tied down his back with a leather thong. He stared at her wide-eyed, as if unsure what to make of her. It was only then that she realized his chiseled, sun kissed body was covered only waist down by a traditional Scottish kilt.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" she ground out, finally getting an inkling of where she might be.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Authors Note_****: Ok so for the beginning of this story I'm putting the characters dialect in Scottish brogue (sorry if this is confusing) but soon it'll become just normal phrases since Gwen will get used to hearing it. **

After a long battle with the man on the horse, the majority of which was spent with her explaining she was not some sort of spy, he lifted her onto the back of the horse and they began to race away from the clearing. Gwen actually found herself glad to be rid of the strange rock that was disappearing behind them, however her companion was more than a little maddening.

He'd introduced himself, however as his name was ridiculously long and hard to pronounce she'd taken to calling him Cooper instead. When he said his name in his Scottish brogue it sounded similar so she didn't see the harm.

The farther they rode together, the more confused she became. She'd resigned herself to being in Scotland, though for the life of her she couldn't figure out why she was, but the scenery was so pure and untouched she found it hard to decipher what part of the country she was in. They'd come across no ruins, no towns, and no modern buildings.

"Is there a phone I could use? Or an embassy nearby?" Gwen asked, watching as a team of wild horses galloped past them.

"A whit?" he huffed, turning his head slightly to raise a confused eyebrow at her.

"You don't know what a phone is!?" she shrieked, in utter shock.

He shrugged his broad shoulders and urged the horse to gallop faster, a castle coming into view not far in the distance. She stared at it in awe. It was huge, overlooking a small town below; all encircled by a large stonewall. The closer they got to it the more her thoughts began to spiral. The castle looked original, its walls and build rough and comprised of large pieces of stone. The turrets were being manned by more largely built men, similar to Cooper but slightly older in age. Most had long hair tied down their backs, only a few had chopped it off, and all wore the same tartan that Cooper wore. The town was comprised of small, and in her opinion crudely built, homes and shops. The men all had the physique that came with hard labour and the women were all adorned in floor length dresses that could have come straight out of a history book.

She cringed, finally understanding she was not simply in Scotland, but rather what as far as she could tell, was ancient Scotland.

The horse galloped through the town, up a grassy hill and slowed when it reached the barn. Cooper jumped down and offered his hand to assist her, to which she frowned and leapt down herself. He frowned at her refusal of his help, clearly displeased with her behavior, and began to walk towards the castle. She trailed behind him, unsure what to make of the impossible situation she was in. She'd expected the tablet to have answers for her, not more problems. The runes were supposed to be a prophecy. She'd heard it so many times since she was born. All she'd wanted was to prove it wrong, to find a way to prevent it. Instead she found herself in ancient Scotland. She snickered at the irony, remembering how people used to tell her not to look for trouble.

Cooper shot her a look over his shoulder that said she was crazy for laughing to herself about nothing, then kept walking. The large wooden castle doors were pulled open as Cooper approached and shut tightly behind them after they were both inside. She looked around awkwardly as Cooper was mobbed by a few of the men who punched him in the arm and shoved him around as they laughed together. Cooper froze after a few seconds of his horsing around and returned his focus to Gwen. The other men followed his gaze and upon finally noticing her, nearly dropped their jaws on the floor and then began to push Cooper around even more as if to say good find.

Cooper shrugged them off agitatedly, explaining what had happened and although she couldn't understand his brogue, based on his tone of voice, Gwen presumed it was insulting to her.

After a few moments of the men looking from Cooper to her and back to Cooper, then nodding in understanding to him, Cooper waved them away and motioned for her to follow him again.

The inside of the castle was adorned with elaborately carved furniture and intricately woven tapestries. While passing one she reached out to touch the weaving, only to be scolded by a nearby maid who smacked her hand away from it harshly. She scowled, hating this time more and more the longer she was here. Finally Cooper stopped in front of the largest set of doors she'd ever seen and knocked using a large iron circle hanging from the door like a makeshift handle. Gwen rolled her eyes, un-amused at having to wait for permission to enter any room, something in stark contrast to her usual thieving ways back in her own time.

A moment passed before a deep voice bellowed for them to enter from the other side of the door. Cooper shot Gwen a look that implied she was to behave herself or else before inhaling deeply and pushing open the doors. The room was large, the king-size space filled only with an oversized wooden desk and an elaborately carved chair that resembled more of a throne than anything else. The walls were adorned with maps and diagrams that resembled football plays, but that she assumed were battle schematics. After surveying the space her eyes came to rest on the man seated in the elegant chair.

He was even larger than Cooper in build and looked much less friendly. His hair was onyx and tied back in a leather thong, his skin pale but kissed by the sun. His frame was comprised entirely of muscle she was sure, as her eyes fell from his powerful chest to his thick arms. He had yet to look up from whatever on the desk he was focused on. Cooper stood beside her and she eyed him, expecting him to speak, but he never did. Eventually his gaze drew up from the desk to them, and as it did she saw his eyes widen familiarly as had every other man she'd encountered thus far.

"Whit in God's nam ur ye wearin'?" he coughed, surveying her body lengthily with his eyes.

Gwen blushed under his gaze, looking down at her clothes. Her tight black bodysuit hugged her form and left little to the imagination. Only a pink belt fastened around her waist broke the seamless fit of it. Her hands were covered with small gloves and her mask, resembling a cat, now hung from her belt rather than adorning her face, having fallen off while being transported. She knew in her time this would've been considered a racy outfit, but in this time she couldn't even imagine what people must have thought upon seeing her.

"Ah foond 'er in th' woods." Cooper interceded, clearing his throat to break the heavy silence that filled the space between them.

The man, never looking away from Gwen, nodded in understanding at Coopers declaration.

"Whaur ur ye frae?" the man asked, meeting Gwen's eyes curiously.

Gwen paused, trying to decipher his thick brogue, before answering.

"America." She stated, half expecting him to know where that was.

"'At a rival clan?" He asked, finally looking to Cooper for confirmation.

Cooper shrugged, his face contorting into a confused expression.

"Ne'er heard ay it." he replied, scowling at Gwen for giving a useless answer.

"What's yer nam lass?" he asked, narrowing his dark eyes at her in suspicion.

"Gwen Tennyson." She replied, rolling her eyes at the fact he thought this would give him any relevant information about her.

As soon as the words left her mouth both men's faces became set in a cold mask of anger.

"Tennyson!" The man roared furiously, jumping to his feet so fast it knocked the elaborate chair onto its back. "Hoo coods ye brin' a Tennyson haur?!"

Cooper flinched back as the man closed the space between them.

"Ah didne ken!" he swore, raising his hands in surrender.

The dark haired man paced the room, then stopped and slammed his fist down onto the desk so hard Gwen swore she saw small pieces splinter off.

"She cannae be allowed tae lae!" he swore under his breath, glaring at her before swooping her up and slinging her over his shoulder.

"Put me down!" Gwen screamed, punching the man's back as hard as she could and flailing her feet around in protest.

The man didn't even flinch in response to her assaults merely grumbled under his breath about Tennysons. After being hauled like a sack of potatoes up various flights of stairs he opened a wooden door, threw her inside the room roughly, and slammed it shut behind her. Gwen clamored to her feet and raced for the door only to hear an audible click as he locked her inside.


	3. Chapter 3

Gwen paced the room, absolutely fuming. The door was locked tight and her rough pounding on it had merely made it groan in protest, not open. The only other way out was through a small window cut into the stone wall on the far side of the room. She stood under it, stretching her body so she could peer out, only to find herself high above the ground. She swore under her breath, cursing the dark haired man for locking her in the tallest room of the oversized castle.

Outside the door she could hear the murmurs of guards who had been ordered to prevent her escape. Trying to remain calm she sat cross-legged on the wooden floor. She knew she had only three options, two of which could land her in even more trouble then she was already facing. The first option was slightly unwise, to so easily form a pedestal under her feet and quietly float out the window to freedom, praying all the while that no one below spotted her. On the other hand a much simpler approach would be to merely use her unique skills to break the lock. Both involved exposing herself as more than human, something she assumed would put her in even more danger than the third option of staying put until the man returned for her.

She scowled, desperately trying to remember the ancient Scottish penalty for being found to be a witch.

* * *

"Laird Levin, Ah swear Ah didne ken!" Cooper once again barked gruffly, clearly overwhelmed with guilt.

The man said nothing in response. His eyes were closed and his brow was furrowed as he sat at his desk deep in thought. After having locked the red haired lass in one of the highest chambers the two men had immediately returned to the study where they righted the knocked about furniture and began to devise a plan.

"Aiblins ye coods keep 'er jist until we win th' war," Cooper pondered aloud. "Ance yoo're kin' ye can do as ye please."

The man's black eyes narrowed in response.

"Ye ken Ah hae nae interest in politics." He spat angrily. "Ah jist want th' Tennyson clan tae gonnae-no interferin'."

"'en mebbe she is th' answer." Cooper grinned, raising his eyebrows as a plan began to shape in his mind.

* * *

Gwen rose from her cross-legged seat, her legs having gone numb many minutes ago. She silently crept to the door, kneeling and pressing her face to the keyhole. The guards were still mumbling in the hall, clearly bored with their current post and not afraid to say so. She grinned, ready to fulfill their desire for a more eventful day.

After pondering her options she'd decided to do some improvisation and escape through the door without completely giving herself away, at least she hoped her plan would play out that way.

She pressed her finger to the keyhole, closing her eyes and feeling as pink tendrils of energy extended from her fingers and into the lock. She focused on the shape of it, manipulating the energy to encase the space within the keyhole. After a couple of seconds of fiddling she heard the click of the door unlocking and withdrew her hand, sighing in relief that she didn't have to resort to flying or breaking things with unnatural ability.

The guards outside the door continued with their griping, completely unaware that their prisoner had just essentially freed herself. Gwen smirked cockily, opening the door and stepping out, watching as the men's eyes widened first in shock at her escape then upon seeing her clothing. She rolled her eyes, sick of being judged based on her clothes. She couldn't help but think about how differently she would have dressed had she known she'd have ended up in this situation.

After a few seconds of gawking the men snapped back to reality and angrily bellowed what she assumed was an order to get back into the room. She rolled her eyes; taking another few steps forwards until one of the two guards irately stomped forwards and attempted to grab her.

She moved instinctively, grabbing the man's arm and using it to lead him forwards quickly enough to trip over her extended leg. Once that happened all hell broke loose as the men drew their swords and Gwen frowned in irritation at the speed bumps standing between her and freedom.

* * *

Cooper walked beside the Laird, completely oblivious to the struggle until it was too late. By the time he noticed the two guards struggling to contain one small woman, both he and the Laird were frozen in disbelief.

Although the men were being thrown about like rag dolls, she didn't look boorish nor vicious. Her movements were precise and fluid, almost as if she were dancing with them rather than hurting them. It was intoxicating to watch, almost elegant even, and neither man dared to look away. A few moments later she was standing looking down at the crumpled bodies of two brawny guards, her face set in a stone cold mask.

Cooper felt a shudder run up his spine at the sight, and turned to see his companion with an amused smile on his usually reserved face. Still frozen in place he watched as Levin walked to the woman, lifted her with one arm by her waist, and hauled her down the hall towards his quarters, her madly struggling all the while.

* * *

Gwen hit the bed with a thud, struggling to get up but finding it hard to get any leverage. The make shift mattress moved as she did, molding to her and making it near impossible to get up.

"What is this, the water bed from hell?" she screamed, finally managing to jerk up into a seated position.

He gaped at her, a strange combination of lust, amusement and confusion in his deep eyes. She stared into them, hypnotized, before turning her head suddenly to hide her face as a blush crept across her cheeks. She looked down, noticing the bed was merely a piece of fabric stuffed with what she assumed were millions of extremely pliable feathers positioned atop a stone slab to elevate it off the hard ground.

"It's Gwen, reit?" the man's voice purred in his deep sultry baritone.

Gwen nodded, wriggling backwards with every step he took towards her. Before long she found herself pressed against the wall with no more room to escape his advances. He was atop her in mere moments, his strong frame pressing her against the wall and into the plush prison of the bed.

"Let go," she demanded angrily, struggling pointlessly against his weight. "I don't even know you."

"Aam Laird Levin." He smirked, boring into her eyes with his own endless black orbs. "But ye can call me Kevin."

He whispered the last part into her ear, his warm breath tickling her neck and sending shivers across her body. She felt his lips press against her neck and he begin feathering kisses lower and lower. She writhed under him, desperately trying to push him off to no avail. When she felt his mouth reach her chest she gasped audibly and in a flash of pink light he was off of her and lying on the floor on the far side of the room.

"Crap." She groaned under her breath, realizing what she had just done as the pink energy engulfing her hands began to fade.

Kevin stared up at her from the floor in shock and she held her breath, awaiting the inevitable consequences of what she had just shown him.

* * *

_**Authors Note: So just in case the brogue is confusing here's the translations (also please R&R):**_

_**"Laird Levin, Ah swear Ah didne ken!" = "Lord Levin, I swear I didn't know!" **_

_**"Aiblins ye coods keep 'er jist until we win th' war," Cooper pondered aloud. "Ance yoo're kin' ye can do as ye please." = "Perhaps you could keep her just until we win the war. Once you're king you can do as you please."**_

_**"Ye ken Ah hae nae interest in politics." He spat angrily. "Ah jist want th' Tennyson clan tae gonnae-no interferin'." = "You know I have no interest in politics. I just want the Tennyson clan to stop interfering." **_

_**"'en mebbe she is th' answer." = "Then maybe she is the answer."**_


End file.
